Draco Malfoy: Massagist
by Bull
Summary: When Draco Malfoy sneaks into Hermione's room, she gets a surprise she never bargained for.
1. Draco

Draco burst into the Gryffindor common room, interrupting the game of chess that Harry and Ron were halfway through. The two Gryffindor boys looked up in horror.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron asked in alarm. Harry jumped to his feet and stood next to Ron, blocking Draco from coming any further into the room. He frantically felt around his cloak for his wand. Triumphantly, his fingers closed around it, and he jabbed the wand in Malfoy's face.

"How did you get the password?" Harry asked, not noticing the expression on Malfoy's face.

Draco wasn't sneering, as usual; rather, he looked a little worried. His face had actual coloring for once, instead of the bloodless hue that usually accompanied members of the Malfoy family. Ignoring both Ron's and Harry's questions, Draco said, "Weasley, Dumbledore sent me to find you. Normally I wouldn't have bothered, but it sounded urgent."

Harry and Ron looked at each other disbelievingly. Stunned, Harry lowered his wand a little. "Why should we trust you?" Ron asked Malfoy defiantly.

"Because your family's lives are in danger, Weasley. Believe me or don't, I don't care if any more bad blood is spilt. It's about time the Weasley bloodline finally thinned out a little. All those children your parents had sure soiled up the wizarding world."

"That's enough, Malfoy," Harry said. "Where's Dumbledore?"

"He said to meet him at his office. Password's Fizzing Whizbees. He said you'd know how to get there."

"You'd better not be lying about this, Malfoy," Harry said. Ron stood next to him, still disbelieving what the Slytherin had told them. It wouldn't be the first time his family had been in danger since he became friends with Harry Potter. Harry pressed firmly on Ron's back, and the two hurried out of the common room to find Dumbledore.

Malfoy smiled. Those two were so easy to manipulate. It had taken almost no effort at all to get them to leave, just a little stage makeup and a few false words. No wonder Potter got himself into so much danger, always running off like that, Malfoy thought.

He peered around the Gryffindor common room, comparing it to his own. It had been easy enough to get in here too, once he'd found Neville's books. The boy was so forgetful he had to have his name written in the cover of every book. After a minimal amount of searching, Malfoy found what could only be the Gryffindor password written inside the pages. It had eraser marks around it, as though Neville had written the new password there every time it was changed. Not surprisingly, Draco had felt no sympathy at sneaking in. But enough thinking about that. Draco had important things to do before Harry and Ron came back.

He started up the staircase leading to the girls' beds. He knew only one girl would be up there. The rest of the Gryffindor girls were in Hogsmeade, along with the rest of the school, third years and higher. Reaching the top of the stairs, he halted for a moment before pushing open the door.

Hermione was so immersed in her studies that she didn't even hear him walk in. That was fine with Draco. He'd much rather impersonate the evil git she thought he was for a while longer. At least she wouldn't see his sensitive side this way, he thought, as he snuck up behind her. He reached around her and clamped one hand over her mouth so she wouldn't scream. With the other hand, he grasped her left arm to calm her nerves. Her eyes went wide with fear, although Draco could not see this. Loosening his grip a little, Draco used his left hand to trace small circles on her skin. He slid his hand from her mouth and placed it on her other shoulder.

She didn't turn around right away when he let go of her. Instead, she sat still, contemplating what to say. Finally, she settled on, "Your hands are like ice." Draco pulled his hands away from her skin, unsure what to make of that comment. She whirled around to look him in the eyes. "I knew it was you," she said factually. "No one else has such a grip of death."

He didn't know how to respond, but the moment he caught her eyes he knew he was lost. His face softened, and he reached out with his icy hands to caress her again. She didn't back away, which was probably a good sign, he informed himself. He contented himself with running his hands up and down her arms, and over her shoulders. She continued to stare at him, wondering what game he was playing at.

"And no one else has such an icy stare as you do, Granger. Though I'm sure you've heard that before."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked finally. "Why bother sneaking into my room just to come here and insult me? Don't you have better things to do with your time?" She gestured to the parchment she had been writing on, indicating her disapproval that he wasn't focusing on his studies.

"I needed a break. I have nothing better to do, what with Crabbe and Goyle being at Hogsmeade. Figured I'd come see the one person who I knew wouldn't be out having fun."

"Harry and Ron are still here, I'm sure you could hang out with them for a while."

"As thrilling as scar boy is, I figured I'd leave all the excitement to Ron," Malfoy said sarcastically. He grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to Hermione's, obviously not intending to leave anytime soon. He continued tracing patterns along her arms. "Your shoulders have got to be killing you from all those books you drag around," he said.

"What's it to you, Malfoy?" she asked. She was obviously content to let him keep caressing her though.

"I've learned some tricks in my day. Think I could show you how to keep the stress out of a woman's body. If you're inclined to let me try, that is."

"Go ahead," she said, "but I doubt you'll be able to. I've got kinks like you've never seen in my back."

"Just lean forward," he said, "so I can reach you." He started kneading her back gently and skillfully, eliciting a few small moans from her that he found had quite a reaction on his lower regions. Unfortunately, the chair and her cloak were both in the way. He stopped, trying to figure out how to soothe her better. After a moment without his touches, she turned around, wondering what was wrong.

He shrugged his shoulders in frustration. "If you lay down, this would be a lot easier for both of us," he told her.

"Alright," she said, and let him guide her to the closest bed. He watched as she threw herself down on the sheets, homework forgotten, and he grinned. He had the upper hand. He slid his eyes up and down her body, in awe at how small her frame was. Why wasn't she considered one of the beautiful girls, he wondered. She was easily one of the prettiest girls at Hogwarts, in his opinion. The only reason boys weren't constantly calling for her was because she wouldn't let them. And yet here he was, in her bedroom, no less.

She moaned. "What's taking so long?" she complained, with her face buried in the pillows. "You come into my room, give me half a massage, and leave me for your thoughts?"

"Impatient, Granger? Must've liked the preview. You'll get your full massage though," he said, and laid down next to her on the bed.


	2. The Massage

AN: I was really pleased with the reviews I got on the last chapter. That's quite possibly the most reviews I've gotten in such a short amount of time. They really made me want to keep writing, which is why the second chapter is up so quickly. I'm not sure if this will be the final chapter or not; it seems kind of concluded although I'd love to take it further. Anyway, on to the story, as they say:

As Malfoy lay down next to her, the weight of his body sunk into the bed, making Hermione roll a little closer to him than she would have wanted on any normal occasion. However, this was not a normal occasion. Any day when Malfoy's nice to me of his own free will cannot be normal, thought Hermione. She wasn't complaining though. It wasn't as if they were enemies, really, but they had always had harsh words for each other in Harry's presence. Hermione knew how much Harry disliked Malfoy. As Harry's friend, she had to be respectful of that, right? Well Harry wasn't here now, and Hermione was more than willing to give Malfoy a chance while there was no one around to botch things up between them.

He placed his hands on the small of her back, kneading into her with more force than he had used when they were sitting down. Her body slammed softly into the bed with every motion he made, and his hands sent a shiver up and down her spine. He was right; this position did make the massage much more pleasurable. He proceeded to soothe her entire back, getting out all the kinks she had from sitting stiffly at her desk and carrying books around with her everywhere she went. She didn't know why he was here, or how he had even gotten into Gryffindor tower, but at this moment, none of that mattered. She only cared that he was here, and that he was making her more relaxed than she had felt since she could remember.

The force on her back lessened as his strokes turned into full out caresses. He glided his hands across her shoulders, down her arms, with the touch of a lover. She rolled to her side and looked at him questioningly, and in that moment, the world melted away.

He brushed his lips against hers before she could react. Not that she would have moved away if she had the chance. She was just surprised. His eyelids flickered shut as he deepened the kiss. His hands continued their movements over her lower back, finally settling just above her hip bones. Her body was on fire now: a starch contrast from his, which was encased in iciness, as always.

Finally, he pulled away. Hermione started to lean toward him again, but remembered her wits at the last minute. She laid her head on the pillow, unsure of what to do. If only her heart and her mind would agree for once, she could just give into her emotions and kiss him again. But it was Malfoy, after all, and she could not see a reason why she should initiate something so gentle with him. That would just give him more ammo against her, more reason to smirk in that subtle way of his when he saw her in the halls with Potter. At least she had the upper hand here; she could be the one to smirk, knowing that he had wanted to kiss her, and not the other way around.

Hermione's eyes had remained closed through their kiss. She opened them now to find all traces of a smirk gone from Malfoy's face. His eyes were dark with wonder, and if she recognized it, a little lust. All the usual confidence in his gaze had vanished, which made him look more handsome, Hermione thought. Their eyes locked, and neither of them made any effort to avert their gazes.

Always the first to make a move, Malfoy finally rolled off the bed onto his feet. Something flickered in Hermione's eyes, but what, he didn't know. Probably realization of who she just kissed, thought Malfoy, or maybe a little disgust. He knew he wasn't bad-looking, or a bad kisser for that matter. Only Granger would find anything less than perfect in his character, but maybe that was what attracted him to her. No one else would dare to put up so much of a challenge against his charms. And no one else would be half as witty while doing so. He knew that by kissing her, he had given her the right to critique him in front of her friends and his, but being the Gryffindor she was, she would never use it. Always gallant, he sneered.

She saw the transformation on his face as his happy expression faded into his usual grimace. She started to ask him what was wrong, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips.

"Potter and Weasley will be back soon," he said, "and I don't fancy they'd react nicely to my being up here."

"Maybe if you were a little nicer to them, they wouldn't mind," she replied, moving his finger out of the way to retort.

He smiled. It was good to see Granger being so predictably angry at his mention of her friends. It brought him out of the sappy mood he had been in up to a few moments before.

"They're the Gryffindors; they're the ones who are supposed to be kind-hearted no matter what. I, on the other hand, have no such expectation."

"Just because you're a Slytherin doesn't mean you have to treat other people like dirt, Malfoy."

"Treat others as you want to be treated," he mocked, "the golden role. Why don't you take a look at how the high and mighty Potty goes around treating other people sometime, and then we'll continue this. Personally, I'd love to see how you'd think of him if you weren't completely blinded by his lust for you."

"That's disgusting, Malfoy. Harry's just my friend, and you know that as well as I do. Besides, he's not the one who kissed me, if I recall."

"One word about that gets out, Granger, and you'll spend the rest of your life regretting it. I can't have my reputation soiled with the rumor that I touched a Mudblood."

"Guess only your lips will be soiled then. Actually, that's not too different than where you started from, is it."

Malfoy shook his head. "You're so full of fire, Granger. It's a shame you're not a Slytherin, you could actually put it to good use." With that said, he leaned over her body, still on the bed, and brushed his lips against hers once more before retreating out the door. "Hope you liked the massage," he called back to her, before disappearing completely from her sight.


	3. Quidditch Game

"Are you cold?" Ron asked. Hermione's cheeks were burning red as the wind rushed past both their faces. Ron was freezing, and the bleachers dug icy trails into his backside, but he would offer up his heavy robes in a minute to keep Hermione warm.

She assured him that she was fine, but her teeth chattered while she said so. Although her figure shook, she refused to accept any extra protection from the cold. Her eyes were glued ahead of her, at the figures draped in red and green robes. She was so focused that she barely noticed the weather; she only realized how snowy it was when she had to wipe the flakes away from her eyes in order to see the players better.

"Yeah!" Ron yelled. He pumped his fist in the air. "C'mon Harry! He sees the Snitch," he said, turning to Hermione.

"Go Harry," she said halfheartedly. She knew she should be cheering on her friend and fellow Gryffindor, but her heart just wasn't in it that day. Instead of watching Harry dive for the tiny golden ball, her eyes drifted down to where a certain Slytherin Seeker still searched anxiously for the Snitch.

"We won!" Ron yelled, as Harry completed his dive, narrowly avoiding collision with another player. Ron turned to high five Hermione, who was still in a bit of a daze. "You're not catching cold, are you?" he asked her, as his extended hand drooped back down to his side.

"No, I'm fine," she said, "just a little worried about that essay that Snape assigned. I really should get back to work on it."

"But Hermione, you already have twice as much written as I do. Besides, don't you want to come congratulate Harry with me?" Ron asked. His eyes searched hers for some clue as to why the Snape paper worried her so much. He didn't think she was leaving completely because of the paper, and a tiny, self-conscious part of him wondered if he was the reason she wanted to go so badly.

"I'm sure I'll catch him back at the common room," she said. In some small region of Hermione's brain, she herself wondered why she was so urgent to get back. It's not as if anything awaited her in the dorms, and she had finished the paper days before. She only knew that Harry would see through her pretense where Ron did not, and she didn't want to hurt Harry's feelings by acting uninterested in the game. It was hard for her to focus on anything lately. All her thoughts seemed to be concentrated on one person. Hermione was not accustomed to such errant thoughts, and she was still unsure about how to hide those thoughts from her friends. Especially with the way she kept feeling all light-headed every time he looked in her direction, she thought, as he looked her way and she sunk deeper into her seat.

Ron looked crushed, but he said goodbye to Hermione and headed down to the Gryffindor huddle of shouting and cheering. He smirked as he glanced over to where the Slytherin team retreated dejectedly back into the locker rooms, their green robes looking almost black in the snow. Ron could not get close enough to Harry to congratulate him, so he settled for talking to Hagrid, who was perched at the bottom of the bleachers.

"Atta boy, Harry," Hagrid yelled. He turned to Ron. "Where's Hermione," Hagrid asked. "Haven't seen her in a while."

"She's been a little off lately," Ron replied unhappily. "Worried about some paper Snape gave us, I guess. She didn't even want to talk to Harry, just went back up to her room to work."

"Well it is Hermione, Ron," Hagrid said pointedly. "'S not unlike her to spend hours and hours workin' while the rest of us are havin' fun."

"True that," Ron said, glancing once more at the retreating Slytherins. He continued to talk with Hagrid until they could finally get close enough to Harry to give him a pat on the back. Finally, the Gryffindors went back to the dorms to celebrate their victory. Ron followed behind the happy team, hoping in the back of his mind that Hermione would at least come down from her room for some butterbeer, so he could find out what was wrong with her.

At the other side of the school, a dejected Draco Malfoy kicked angrily at his bedroom wall. There would be no festivities in the Slytherin common room, not after such a big loss to Gryffindor. He knew the team would hold him responsible for the loss. He should have been trying harder to find the Snitch, but he just couldn't concentrate, knowing that her eyes were glued to him the whole game. He barely even noticed when Potter dove for the golden ball; he was too lost in his thoughts about the brown eyes fixed steadily in his direction. Ever since that day in her room, his life had been constant torture. The only relief came in knowing that she too was tortured by thoughts of him. Finally, someone had gotten through the bushy barrier around her head. With that thought, Draco smiled satisfactorily, kicked the wall one last time, and laid down in his bed.


	4. Aftermath

Hermione heard the Gryffindors as they entered the common room, whooping and yelling. The game had meant a lot to them; any chance they had at outperforming the Slytherins was an opportunity to take advantage of. Hermione knew all this, and she felt horrible for avoiding Harry and the team, but she just didn't think she could face them in the mood she was in.

She was in a bad way. Every thought she had was consumed by thoughts of Malfoy that grew even stronger every time he looked in her direction. He was not the person Harry and Ron thought he was, Hermione thought. Malfoy had a gentle side that nobody knew about. Unless he pulled the same massage crap on other girls…Hermione's face turned red; she was humiliated at the thought she might have let Malfoy take advantage of her in her own room. The room that she was in now. Drat, she thought, looking around at her bed and her table, why did I have to come back to this room to hide? I can't focus in here anymore, knowing that he kissed me here.

And her thoughts circled on like this, often dwelling on the kiss itself, a memory that she was too ashamed to put into actual words. Hermione laid down on her bed and sighed, listening to the din from the common room, and wondering what Draco was doing at that moment.

After the noises downstairs started to die down, Hermione finally worked up the courage to get off her bed. She figured she could have a brief talk with Harry, and then slip off to the library or something. She wouldn't go looking for Draco, but she wouldn't mind running into him, if he happened to be up and about. At least then maybe she could get the whole kiss incident straightened out in her mind, or maybe have a repeat episode-

What was she thinking? She exploded at herself, forcing her face into a smile instead of the lovesick expression she got every time she thought of him. She jogged down the steps, anxious to get through the party as fast as she could to once more be alone with her thoughts. Even though her thoughts seemed to betray her lately…

Harry and Ron looked up to see Hermione racing down the stairs toward them.

"Done with your paper?" Ron asked nonchalantly, although anyone who knew him could see the real worry behind his question.

"Not quite," Hermione said, with a fleeting smile. "I still have to go get some books from the library before I can finish. Oh, and congratulations on your catch, Harry. It was brilliant."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Hermione. It was a piece of cake, with Malfoy looking the other direction the whole game. I doubt he would have noticed if the Snitch had hit him in the back of the head."

Only Ron noticed the look that crossed Hermione's face when Malfoy's name was mentioned. He didn't say anything that might have embarrassed her, but he did mark her expression in the back of his mind for later examination. Curious, he added, "Yeah, Malfoy sure was distracted out there. Bet he'll catch a lot of grief from the rest of the Slytherins. They're not exactly known for their understanding and forgiveness."

"Who knows, his screw up might even chase all the Slytherin girls away from him for a while. They wouldn't want anyone less than perfect," Harry said.

"Yeah, but they're a lot denser than Gryffindor girls," Ron countered. "They wouldn't know perfection if it was wearing a name tag and a bright purple jumpsuit. All they care about is looks."

"So you think Malfoy's good looking?" Harry said jokingly. Both boys noticed when Hermione blushed. They glanced at each other, but decided to shrug it off until later.

"Better looking than you," Ron joked back, although he really didn't believe that. "What do you think, 'Mione?"

She paled. "I think you boys have better things to worry about than people's appearances. Like those essays Snape assigned us, which I'm going to go finish right now."

"Want us to come with you?"

"So I can do all your work for you? No, you two stay here and enjoy the festivities. I'll be in the dungeons-err, I mean the library."

Once again, Harry and Ron glanced at each other, aware that something was awry. They waited until Hermione had clamored through the portrait hole, her bushy hair trailing behind her, to discuss her unusual attitude.

"What do you think is eating at her?" Ron asked Harry. They were careful not to be overheard by their still-partying friends. "Every time Malfoy's name comes up, she starts acting all strange."

"Maybe he hexed her or something, and she's still angry about it," Harry replied. "With Malfoy, it could be anything, but I'm sure he's pulled something fishy."

"If it was a hex, why wouldn't she tell us about it?" Ron asked.

"Malfoy told her to keep quiet?"

"Nah, she still would've risked it. Maybe she's embarrassed about it…could've been a really bad one, like that time she turned herself into a cat with that Polyjuice Potion."

"Hermione's a good witch though. You really think she wouldn't have been able to stop him?"

"Not if he came up from behind. Slytherins are known for their sneakiness, after all. They can't live up to anything, and they certainly can't face their opponents dead on."

"Which isn't doing much for my ego, considering the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but you have a point. Anyway, there's only one way to get to the bottom of all this, if Hermione won't tell us."

"What's that?"

"Confront the source. Or sorcerer, in this case. C'mon, let's go grab the invisibility cloak. We're going to the dungeons."

Little did they know, their bushy-haired friend was already well on her way to the dungeons to confront the source of her problems, and possibly to comfort a dejected wizard on his Quidditch loss that day.

AN: Glad to see I still have readers (and reviewers), even though I put this story on hold for a few months. I'm out of school now, so I have much more time to write. I realize this is moving a little slow, since there hasn't even been a second Hermione and Draco confrontation yet…but what can I say…next chapter?


	5. Jaws of Slytherin

Stealthily, Hermione made her way down to the dungeons. Harry and Ron had long ago informed her of the location of the Slytherin dorms, although she had no idea how she might get in without a password. She hoped that she would be lucky enough to find Draco wandering around the dungeons without his goonies. Then again, that might take a miracle, since those guys almost never left his side.

The one thing Hermione had going for her was the invisibility cloak she had bought over the summer. Not even Ron or Harry knew she had one yet, so she knew she was safe even if they bumped into her around the castle. She figured the trio could use an extra one in an emergency, since Harry's always seemed to get lost or stolen. There hadn't been any real dangers yet, so Hermione still hadn't mentioned it. Besides, the two would laugh at her for her other use of it: sneaking down to the kitchens to find out if the house elves were really as happy as every other wizard seemed to think they were. So far, she hadn't found any evidence to suggest they led unhappy lives, but Hermione was persistent. If any clues came up, she would waste no time at all in restarting her S.P.E.W. campaign.

As Hermione neared the Slytherin entrance, she started wondering about how Draco had gotten into the Gryffindor common room in the first place. He would have had the same trouble she did now, trying to find the password. It was not impossible. Another man had gotten into the Gryffindor dorms before, in Hermione's third year at the school. Sirius Black snuck in…he had found the password in Neville's schoolbooks. Of course, Hermione thought, at the beginning of the school year Neville had regained his privileges. No longer did he have to wait outside the Fat Lady's portrait for an older student to let him in. Surely that's where Draco had gotten the password…but how did that help her situation? There must be someone as forgetful as Neville in the Slytherin dormitory, thought Hermione.

Then it hit her. If Neville could get into the dorms without knowing the password, she could do the same thing. With her new invisibility cloak, she would only need to wait for a Slytherin to enter, and then sneak through behind them.

When she got to the Slytherin entrance, she realized this could be harder than it looked. Ever suspicious of others, the Slytherins had a trap set up with metal teeth above and below their entrance. When someone went through, the trap would open wide enough that one person could get through, and then slam shut on anyone still entering. Hermione thought she had enough time to get through if she didn't dawdle, but she didn't want to think about the consequences if she didn't make it. No one would find her damaged body, with the cloak on, until someone tripped over it.

Gritting her teeth, Hermione braced herself as a second year Slytherin approached the dormitories from behind her. She sidled up against the wall so he would not brush against her as he passed. He said the password and the metal teeth opened with a clang. They glared down menacingly at Hermione as she put her hands on either side of the entrance and jumped through. Luckily, there were no mishaps.

Now Hermione had to find Draco's room, since a quick inspection told her that he was not in the common room with the rest of his dejected Slytherins. They had probably cast him out after his Quidditch playing lost them the game. She hoped he was there; if he was elsewhere, she had spent a lot of needless time trying to escape the trap.

His room was not that hard to find, since Pansy Parkinson kept making gestures toward it while she was talking to her girl friends. It was obvious that she liked Draco; she did not even try to keep it a secret. It was almost as if nothing could embarrass the girl. She was forward about her emotions in a way Hermione would never be. Then again, Hermione thought, her forwardness had not exactly snagged Draco for her. Although tons of nastier rumors floated around the school, Hermione was not even sure if Pansy and Draco had ever even kissed.

Hermione didn't like the girl, but she silently thanked her now as Pansy pointed out the way to Draco's quarters. She hurried to Draco's room and pressed her invisible ear alongside the door. As she reached for the handle, she heard a thump against the wall, a sigh, and a plop that could only be Draco dropping onto his bed. She quickly turned the doorknob as the thought of Draco in bed filled her body with emotions she definitely did not want to be having _when did she start calling him Draco anyway? _and was greeted with the very sight that made her mouth water moments before.

Bathed in a cool blue light that mirrored his eyes, Draco sprawled out along his bed. His hands rested behind his head, drifting aimlessly through his light blonde hair. His chest was bare, his Quidditch robes gathered at the end of his bed. A thin green sheet covered the lower half of his body to keep out the chill of the dungeons.

Lost in his own thoughts, Draco appeared not to have heard Hermione come in. She paused at the door to soak in his beauty, if beauty was the right adjective. Slowly, she inched herself over to his bed. She sat down carefully beside him, and he remained still, but if she had only been able to hear his heart beat, she would know he was completely aware of her entrance. Unsure of what else to do, Hermione leaned down gently, and covered his lips with her own.

Both remained unaware that at that very moment, Ron and Harry were making their way down to the Slytherin dungeons to confront Draco about Hermione's weird behavior. They neared the jagged entrance as Hermione and Draco shared their third and most passionate kiss. If the two boys only knew what they would encounter in Draco's room, they would have gone running back to their own dormitory instead of looking for a way to sneak into the Slytherin dorms.

* * *

AN: Even though it's a tiny bit shorter than the others, this is the chapter I'm most proud of to date. You know you all love the cliffhanger between Hermione and Draco. Until next time… 


	6. Confrontation

Draco's heart was not the only part of his body that was going crazy when Hermione stepped into his room. Luckily for Draco, Hermione was too inexperienced to notice the full effect she was having on him. She waltzed up to his bed, focused only on the parts of his anatomy that had made her feel so wonderful that day in her room, i.e., his hands and his lips. She leaned down for a kiss so confidently that a bystander might have assumed the two had been in cahoots for years.

Draco was not about to complain about this new-found confidence in Hermione Granger. In fact, he liked it. It seemed to suit the rest of her personality; after all, when was she ever too shy to speak up in classes or tell off her friends if they were doing something of which she didn't approve? He couldn't find a good reason she would be any shyer around him, even though his ego suggested he was supposed to be more intimidating than he was to this girl.

Why was he still thinking anyway? She was snogging him for chrissakes. Time to turn off his brain and melt into her kisses…even though he had pretty much melted already…

Before he knew it, she had lain down on his bed, and he had wrapped his green sheets around her to stop her from shivering. So much for using them to hide his lower half. Hermione's body was pressed against him, but if she felt the effect she had on him, she chose to ignore it. Their lips were still sliding together; they had not separated once since Hermione walked in. Their need to be together was too great. Things might have even progressed further if the two of them had not suddenly heard the creaking of Draco's door, and seen it opening enough for two cloaked bodies to fit through.

Hermione wrenched herself from Draco's arms, which had found their way around to massage the small of her back. She sat up straight, looking angrily around for the creatures that had dared to wreck hers and Draco's time together. Her mind raced through the possibilities of who _or what_ the intruders could be, but still she was surprised when Draco drawled, "Potter," and Harry nervously pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of his and Ron's heads.

Ron looked horrified, as if he had suddenly found a giant web with tarantulas crawling in his direction. Harry, on the other hand, looked angry.

"What have you done to her, Malfoy?" he asked.

"He hasn't done anything, Harry," Hermione stated coolly.

Harry was not convinced. He raised his wand to point at Malfoy's heart, and then repeated the question. Malfoy remained unarmed. "What have you done to her?"

"Haven't done a thing, Potty," he replied. "If you'll notice, she came to my room, not the other way around."

"Did you jinx her? Stupefy her and drag her back here? Cast the Imperius Curse?" Harry kept asking stupidly. Ron still looked horrified. Hermione placed herself in front of Malfoy, so Harry's wand was pointed at her instead of Draco.

"Move out of the way, Hermione," Harry commanded. Hermione, of course, did not listen.

"Draco hasn't done a thing except be kind to me," Hermione told Harry. "He's not the cold-hearted creep you both think he is."

"I resent that," said Malfoy, from behind her. He took the opportunity of her sitting in front of him to put his arms about her waist, and his chin on her shoulder. Her hair was too bushy to see Potter any other way. Unfortunately, his lower regions were still excited by her presence, and as he moved closer to her he felt her twitch against him. So she had finally realized how much he wanted her. Too bad Potty and Weasel were still here; they were ruining his fun.

"He's called you a Mudblood countless times, Hermione. He tries to get us in trouble every chance he gets. He's a Slytherin, Hermione; of course he's a creep. And now he's done something to you, and I'm going to find out what it is."

Malfoy couldn't help but be a little happy that the Trio was fighting over him. And Hermione was defending him…definitely something he could get used to. He wanted nothing more than to start snogging her again in return for her loyalty, but for that to happen he had to find a way to get Potter and Weasley out of his way. He couldn't curse them; that would only make Hermione angry with him, and he knew it was always healthier to have her anger directed elsewhere. He knew she could hold a grudge for a long time, and he didn't think he could take it if she stayed mad at him for more than a few minutes. Not when they were just getting to know each other. If he couldn't force them to leave, he would have to convince them that he wasn't doing anything malicious to Hermione. There was only one way…

"I have done something to Hermione," Draco finally admitted. The Golden Trio looked at him, shocked, angry, and in Hermione's case, a little hurt. Harry looked the angriest of all.

"Tell us what you've done, so we can reverse it," he ordered. His wand was now pointed directly at Malfoy's face, and there was a murderous look in his eyes.

"Well, it's not quite that simple," said Malfoy. "It's almost impossible to counter. I've been looking for a way…but there's nothing magical I can find to cure it."

"We'll find a way," Harry said firmly. Hermione once again wrenched herself from Malfoy's grip, and stood between her two friends. It was where she belonged, Malfoy thought nostalgically. "Tell us now, or I'll curse you," Harry said, his wand at the ready.

"What I've done," Malfoy started, stopping to gaze into Hermione's downcast eyes, "is fallen in love with her."

Ron collapsed to the ground. Harry looked unconvinced. Hermione's mouth dropped open a little, and she brought her eyes back up to Draco's gaze. Just by looking in his eyes, she knew he was telling the truth. She loved him too. She was not ready to say it yet, especially not in front of her friends, but she knew exactly how Draco felt. And she loved him all the more for it.

With that, Hermione took charge. "I want you and Ron to wait in the hall for a minute. Draco and I need a moment alone. Then I'll come back up to Gryffindor with the two of you," she told Harry.

Unwilling though he was, he could see no other option but to comply with Hermione. She would return to Gryffindor with them, which was what he had wanted in the first place. He wanted his best friends upstairs to celebrate the Quidditch victory with him, and it hurt him to find one of them in the opposing team's bed right after the game. Of course, Hermione never understood Quidditch anyway, but she would still appreciate a good win.

Harry picked Ron off the floor and dragged him into the hallway outside Malfoy's bedroom door. "We'll be right here, Hermione," Harry said, casting one last dangerous look at Malfoy before retreating outside, the Invisibility Cloak once again over his head.

Hermione shut the door behind Harry, then returned to her seat on Draco's bed. "You really love me?" she asked.

"I do," Draco said gently. "I don't know how it happened, but I do."

Hermione gave Draco one last lingering kiss. Both savored it, as if they had never been kissed before in their lives. As they finally broke away, Hermione stood and walked to the door. "See you in Potions on Monday," she said with a tiny smile, which Draco returned. It may have been the first time Hermione had seen him smile, in all their years of school together.

Still half hidden under the sheets, Draco laid back down, his smile ever broadening as he watched the bushy haired girl tuck her Invisibility Cloak under her clothing and saunter out through his door.


	7. A Trio Divided

"So you bought an Invisibility Cloak and didn't even tell Harry or me about it?"

Ron sounded confused and hurt by the news. Hermione rarely kept secrets from them, but when she did, it was always with good reason. Ron could see no reason for her to hide her new cloak from them, unless she had been sneaking out of the Gryffindor common room a lot more often than they knew about…

"Yes, I did. I'm entitled to keep the news about my purchases to myself, aren't I? Or would you like me to begin checking in with you and Harry after every undergarment I buy as well?"

Ron blushed, but did not reply. When Hermione was passionate about something, there was no swaying her, anyway. He could not see a reason to answer; any reply would only end in more hard feelings between them.

Hermione could see that Ron was not about to speak, and so she continued, "I bought my Invisibility Cloak to see if the house elves were being treated as unfairly as I thought suspected. I've been sneaking down into the kitchens, watching them work periodically. Sometimes I've sat up at night watching them tend to the fires, to see whether they looked happy or miserable."

She fell into silence, looking unhappy. Harry, who was sitting in his favorite armchair, was the one who finally prodded her to speak again.

"It seems I've been wrong all along. The house elves that come to Gryffindor Tower usually sing or whistle while they work; same with the house elves in the kitchens. All of them look genuinely happy. The only times they've ever looked upset is if I left a bit of clothing out for them to take. It's fearful, how just a bit of clothing affects them. They become quite violent then. I suppose they really like it here at Hogwarts."

She broke off into silence again. Ron refrained from giving her an "I told you so." She was being honest with them, at least. Even if it did take her months to tell them the truth.

The Trio sat quietly for a few long moments. Around them, fellow Gryffindors continued to celebrate the Quidditch win, drinking butterbeers and pausing to pat Harry on the back as they walked past. As the three friends watched, Crookshanks came tearing down the staircase from the girls dormitories to jump onto Hermione's open lap.

After a long while, Harry, who was still noticeably annoyed, leaned in to speak to Hermione. "What were you doing down in the Slytherin dungeons?" he asked her. "That is, if Ron and I have the right to know about it."

Although Hermione paled a little, she kept her emotions under control when she answered Harry. "I went to visit Draco Malfoy," she told him coolly.

"I see. So you just thought you'd pay a visit to our worst enemy for the fun of it?"

"He's your enemy, not mine," Hermione shot back, glaring at Harry.

"Well that's understandable too, I wouldn't dream of making enemies with someone who calls me a Mudblood every chance he gets," Harry said sardonically.

"He's not who you think he is. He hasn't called me that in ages, for one. And two, he's actually nice to me when you're not around. Just because the two of you have a petty thing going on doesn't mean I can't be nice to him and you."

"Friends don't go around being nice to their friends' enemies, Hermione," said Harry, his face bright red now. "That's just not how things are done. Friends are supposed to be supportive of each other, and each others' choices. And that includes people," he finished angrily.

"Not to team against you, Hermione, but I agree with Harry," Ron said quietly. "That's not how things are done. We've been enemies with Malfoy for years; now suddenly you decide that's all changed and you want to become friends with him? I don't understand."

"And I'm telling you, it's not your place to understand," Hermione said coolly.

Harry stood now, nearly consumed by his rage. In all the years he had known her, he had never known Hermione to be this stubborn, and he had never known her to do anything to deliberately threaten their friendship. Malfoy had gotten under her skin somehow, although he didn't know how that git could win her over without magical means, and Harry was not going to put up with it.

"If you decide to be friends, or whatever you are, with Draco Malfoy," Harry told Hermione, his voice shaking with rage, "you can forget about being friends with me." He did not know how to convey to Hermione how betrayed he felt without sounding like a sap; therefore, he believed his only option was to let her choose between them. He would not be friends with someone who thought Malfoy was a decent person. In all the time he had known Malfoy, the boy had never done a decent thing. In fact, Malfoy was the kind of person who took pleasure in other people's misery and suffering. Harry would not stand for that, nor would he support anyone who did stand for it. Luckily for Harry, Ron felt the same way, and told Hermione so.

Hermione looked slightly worried at the thought of having to choose between her two best friends and Malfoy. However, she gave the two of them a scathing look before retreating to the peace of her common room, letting her voice trail along behind her, "I guess this is goodbye then," she said, her voice only cracking slightly.

It wasn't like she wouldn't see them again anyway, she reasoned, and besides, the whole thing would probably blow over in a few days. As she walked up the stairs to her dormitory, she passed a small group of first years reaping the benefits of the Quidditch win with bottles of butterbeer in their hands. Her first instinct was to yell at them to stop partying, but seeing as what they were doing was quite within Hogwarts rules, she could find no reason. She sighed and, having reached the top of the steps, disappeared into her room.

A few days later, Hermione was not convinced that her fight with Harry and Ron would blow over anytime soon. The two of them had been pointedly avoiding her eyes all weekend. They would not sit at her end of the table in the Great Hall, and if she so much as came into the common room while they were studying, they would quickly make excuses for leaving to the people nearest them.

She could see why they were so angry, and she did not blame them entirely. It was as if a sort of spell had come over her… the Draco Malfoy spell… the kind that made a girl weak at the knees. She just could not get him off her mind, no matter how hard she tried. And so she sided with Malfoy, even though she had not seen him since her confrontation with Harry and Ron. She didn't even know if there was truth in what he said about loving her. Perhaps Harry and Ron were completely right, and Malfoy was just playing with her emotions out of pure evilness.

But when Monday came around, she knew she was right about the change in Malfoy. His hair was immaculate as always, and his robes were neatly pressed. From the minute he walked into Potions class, however, she could tell that something was different. There was a look in Draco's eyes that had never quite been there before; he wasn't glaring at all the Gryffindors as usual. He wasn't flanked by Crabbe and Goyle as was customary either; instead, the two of them were lagging behind, finally coming through the dungeon door quite a while after the bell rang. Of course, Snape, who was never known for his fairness, only told them to sit down, while if it were Harry and Ron who had straggled in late they would have had points taken away from Gryffindor immediately.

Another change seemed to have come over Malfoy. Instead of taking his usual seat in the back of the room, where he could oversee everyone's mistakes and make snide comments that Snape would pointedly miss hearing, Malfoy chose a seat near Hermione. Not next to her of course, that would have looked too suspicious, but close enough that she could hear his groans and under the breath comments as he went about making the potion Snape assigned them, which was supposed to make one's wand shine so brightly that one could easily find it from a mile away. Malfoy seemed to be having a bit of trouble with the potion; Hermione looked up at him in concern until Snape's disconcerting glare brought her attention back to her own cauldron.

The lesson went on without much mishap. Neville, who had taken Harry or Ron's usual seat next to Hermione, looked grateful that Hermione was finally close enough to help him without Snape overhearing and taking points away from Gryffindor. Harry and Ron struggled at a nearby table without her help. Hermione successfully made her potion the navy blue with lime green smoke floating above the surface, although more times than she would admit she found her gaze directed at Draco, her attention far from the ingredients she was mixing. More than once, she stopped herself from adding the wrong item just in time.

Neville's potion was a baby blue with lime green smoke; Harry's was dark blue with maroon smoke, while Ron's was a hopeless violet with yellow smoke. Draco's potion looked similar to Hermione's. As class ended, the witches and wizards bottled up their potions and took them to Snape's desk. On the way back from Snape's desk, Hermione found Draco right behind her. His robes were close enough to reach out and touch. Under pretense of hurting her, Malfoy roughly grabbed Hermione. To her surprise, she felt a bit of parchment that he quickly shoved into her hand before retreating to his cauldron. She held it under the table while cleaning up so she could read without anyone seeing. It was a roughly scribbled note.

_"Meet me after dinner at the Owlery."_

Hermione quickly flipped it over to see if anything else was written, but that was it. Well, she thought to herself, she wouldn't have any trouble getting away now that Harry and Ron would not even look at her. She wouldn't even have to make an excuse for where she was going. Her heart started beating faster, and for the first time ever, she wanted the rest of her classes to be over so she could see what Malfoy wanted.

She looked over at him and saw the smallest hint of a smile on his face. He tilted his head the tiniest bit in her direction before she looked away. Only two more classes to go, she thought anxiously. She sighed. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

AN: Well, I'm extremely pleased with the amounts of commenting going on. This story wasn't meant to be anything special, I just felt like making Draco and Hermione into my playthings in my spare time. Now, the story has come much further than I imagined it would, and I'm having a ton of fun writing it. I did try to make this chapter a bit longer than the others. Anyway...until next time :-D

-Bull


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